Hi all thanks for taking the time to take a look. For those of you that saw the other version i think i straightened out the POV ok, and made a few minor changes. For those of you who didn't the old version is down the thread line if you are interested.
Let me know what you think, thanks.
“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is the Silkenmist, %%WORD46%I92!” George Thurman flinched as another lightning bolt lit up the raging sea. “Silkenmist %%WORD57%I92! Last known position 78 degrees west, 31 degrees north. Caught in storm - engine blown!” The ship crested a wave, and plunged down the far side. George pitched forward and nearly knocked his nephew Will away from his struggle with the ships’ wheel.
“Taking on too much water, becoming swamped, Mayday! For the love of god someone respond! Mayday!” George paused, willing a response to come through the crackling radio. Suddenly, the door to the wheelhouse crashed open and his youngest nephew, Craig stumbled through it.
“Steven’s leg is broken! I strapped him down and piled blankets on him – is there anything else I can do Uncle George?”
“By God, Craig! Where’s your life jacket? Go get it and don’t take it off again!” George watched as he whirled to head back below. The boat chose that moment to pitch suddenly, and Craig lost his balance and was flung up against the rail. Arms wind milling; Craig vainly tried to regain his balance.
George’s world seem to become a slow motion reel as he watched Will rush to his brother’s aid. The unattended wheel spun wildly, causing the ship to keel completely over to port. George struggled to keep his footing as Will careened into his brother knocking him overboard. The last thing George saw of his youngest nephew was the look of utter surprise on his face as he fell. Reality seemed to move into fast-forward as George barely caught Will before he flipped over the rail as well. He then had to grapple Will as he tried to jump after him.
“No! No! Craig!” Screamed Will as George desperately fought to keep his older nephew aboard ship.
Struggling with his grief-maddened nephew, George looked out over the rail in the vain hope of seeing his favorite nephew. All that greeted his frantic gaze was lashing rain and dark foaming waters. George allowed himself one last horror filled thought before dragging Will back to the ship’s wheel, ‘By god, if the rest of us make it out of here alive, how am I going to tell my sister I lost her baby?’
Cracking his head on the side of the ship as he went over, Craig never knew of his brother’s frantic attempts to save him. He was unconscious before he even hit the water. He then sank quietly into the dark vortex of the unforgiving sea, lost to those he cherished forever.
#
Craig regained consciousness in the pitch dark of the storm-ravaged sea as he was slammed up against a rock partially submerged by the raging tide. Astounded to be alive, he clung to his salvation. Another tidal surge washed over him nearly causing him to lose his grip on the slippery rock. Lifting his head he searched frantically for any sign of the ship.
The full moon showed briefly through the rolling storm clouds, to reveal a beach about 50 feet away. Encouraged, yet nearly at the limit of his endurance, Craig waited for the next surge, let go, and was hurled tumbling head over heels to be discarded like a broken seashell upon the beach. Choking and spluttering, he dragged himself up the beach as far away from the howling surf as he could before exhaustion claimed him.
#
As the cold glow of winter’s dawn filtered weakly through the remaining storm clouds, three young fishermen made their way down the shore track to town. Gorn, the oldest, was of average height and rake thin. Possessing a rather stern nature, he was often seen with a perpetual frown upon his face.
Let me know what you think, thanks.
“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is the Silkenmist, %%WORD46%I92!” George Thurman flinched as another lightning bolt lit up the raging sea. “Silkenmist %%WORD57%I92! Last known position 78 degrees west, 31 degrees north. Caught in storm - engine blown!” The ship crested a wave, and plunged down the far side. George pitched forward and nearly knocked his nephew Will away from his struggle with the ships’ wheel.
“Taking on too much water, becoming swamped, Mayday! For the love of god someone respond! Mayday!” George paused, willing a response to come through the crackling radio. Suddenly, the door to the wheelhouse crashed open and his youngest nephew, Craig stumbled through it.
“Steven’s leg is broken! I strapped him down and piled blankets on him – is there anything else I can do Uncle George?”
“By God, Craig! Where’s your life jacket? Go get it and don’t take it off again!” George watched as he whirled to head back below. The boat chose that moment to pitch suddenly, and Craig lost his balance and was flung up against the rail. Arms wind milling; Craig vainly tried to regain his balance.
George’s world seem to become a slow motion reel as he watched Will rush to his brother’s aid. The unattended wheel spun wildly, causing the ship to keel completely over to port. George struggled to keep his footing as Will careened into his brother knocking him overboard. The last thing George saw of his youngest nephew was the look of utter surprise on his face as he fell. Reality seemed to move into fast-forward as George barely caught Will before he flipped over the rail as well. He then had to grapple Will as he tried to jump after him.
“No! No! Craig!” Screamed Will as George desperately fought to keep his older nephew aboard ship.
Struggling with his grief-maddened nephew, George looked out over the rail in the vain hope of seeing his favorite nephew. All that greeted his frantic gaze was lashing rain and dark foaming waters. George allowed himself one last horror filled thought before dragging Will back to the ship’s wheel, ‘By god, if the rest of us make it out of here alive, how am I going to tell my sister I lost her baby?’
Cracking his head on the side of the ship as he went over, Craig never knew of his brother’s frantic attempts to save him. He was unconscious before he even hit the water. He then sank quietly into the dark vortex of the unforgiving sea, lost to those he cherished forever.
#
Craig regained consciousness in the pitch dark of the storm-ravaged sea as he was slammed up against a rock partially submerged by the raging tide. Astounded to be alive, he clung to his salvation. Another tidal surge washed over him nearly causing him to lose his grip on the slippery rock. Lifting his head he searched frantically for any sign of the ship.
The full moon showed briefly through the rolling storm clouds, to reveal a beach about 50 feet away. Encouraged, yet nearly at the limit of his endurance, Craig waited for the next surge, let go, and was hurled tumbling head over heels to be discarded like a broken seashell upon the beach. Choking and spluttering, he dragged himself up the beach as far away from the howling surf as he could before exhaustion claimed him.
#
As the cold glow of winter’s dawn filtered weakly through the remaining storm clouds, three young fishermen made their way down the shore track to town. Gorn, the oldest, was of average height and rake thin. Possessing a rather stern nature, he was often seen with a perpetual frown upon his face.
